


Wake Me Up

by ignemferam



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, pseudo masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignemferam/pseuds/ignemferam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was in the dead of night between passing of patrol in this section of the city, so no one noticed as he quickly slipped into the quarters that was not his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** They're not mine, no matter how much I want them to be.
> 
>  **Author's Notes:**  
>  \- Happy New Year!!  
> \- There was a party where I drank more than I should. Then I came home with this story in my head. There is no plot, really.  
> \- This is un-beta'd. Alli drunken mistakes are mine.

His hand curtly flicked over the door control, barely enough for the sensor to register and the door to slide open. It was in the dead of night between passing of patrol in this section of the city, so no one noticed as he quickly slipped into the quarters that was not his. Although he knew the patrol schedule by heart, it never hurt to put his covert training to practice. One could never be too cautious.

Nobody was inside. Sheppard was on an away mission and would not return until noon the following day. That was exactly why this night was the night. Honestly it was rather creepy if not downright stalker-ish but he could not help himself. Scratch that. Could not help himself was a blatant lie. He was in full control of his actions sans any alien influence. He made a conscious decision to give in to the desire.

The room was cast in a shade of cyan, lit by the rising moon outside the window and its reflected light on the ocean surface. Ambling towards the bed he unceremoniously took off his jacket and standard black tee and toed off his sneakers. Where those landed behind him he paid no mind to since the sheets against his bare skin was the only thing in his could think about at the moment. Laying atop the bed naked would be the most perfect but whatever little of his still existing self-control decided the well worn jeans had to stay on. Because it would be wrong - not that what he was doing was anything remotely okay. He had never thought he would invade another person's privacy, much less his commanding officer. The CO he had unfortunately fallen head over heel in lust with. Treading further down that particular path was not something he could afford.

Slowly crawling onto the tiny bed on his hands and knees, the sheets felt cold under his touch. Lowering his head down in the middle, he pushed his body up towards the headboard dragging his cheek against the fabrics. It was barely noticeable but the sheets seemed not entirely fresh. Perhaps Sheppard had not changed the sheets before gating out. He hoped it was true. His inability to distinguish its owner's scent for a sense memory was disappointing, though the likelihood of the sheets had been in contact with Sheppard's skin was enough to give him a delighted shiver.

Coming up at the head of the bed, he pushed his nose into the pillow. The smell was minutely stronger - a musky mixture of generic shampoo supplied by the military and salty sweat - and definitively existed. He drank in the faint odor like a hypoxic patient hungry for oxygen. Imaginations began to run wild as to how he could sample it from the source. Maybe he could suggest a sparring session with Sheppard. Maybe. The idea of close contact of the bodily kind festered. Hitting, blocking, pushing and groping of sweaty body parts but with an entirely different purpose than exercise. The mental images and actual sensory input of smell certainly contributed to the rapid growth down his crotch.

Flipping on his back, he dragged the pillow over his face to keep breathing in the scent. Coldness of the sheets and hit of fresh air caused his nipples to harden and protrude from his smooth chest. He ran a finger down one side of his chest, letting the tip brush lightly over one nipple and his own skin. Pretending the finger was Sheppard's he let his mind supplement the touch, sending another bolt of desire down his spine. He dug the palm's heel of his other hand hard onto the growing bulge in his jeans, liberating a quiet groan from his mouth that dropped open at the pressure.

His body screamed _yes, more_ but his mind yelled _no_.

The mind won the very short battle then he blamed himself for always being sensible, even when turned on like he was at the moment. Masturbating in Sheppard's bed was probably the closest sexually he could be to his CO. However, he could not let this violation of personal space to go any further than it already had. He felt guilty enough as it was. Anything more was simply too much for him to handle. Excess guilt would drive him to avoiding the other man. There was just no way to explain why he suddenly could not work with his CO nearby or hold any eye contact when necessary. No, he for sure was going to keep that off his to-do list. For now, he could still maintain enough of nonchalance under the pretense of professionalism.

At least, he thought he could. That, or Sheppard was more clueless than seemed to be.

Resigned to the fact that taking in traces of the man in the bed was the best he could do, he tried to relax and indulge. This short moment of fake intimacy was all he could have before sneaking back to his own quarters.

. . . . . .

He had to have drifted off. Because something light dropped on the bed next to his feet, and the slight shift of weight was enough to jolt him awake. Lights in the room seemed to be on but dimmed low, and it was still dark outside the windows despite the moon. Shooting up to a sitting position on the bed, his discarded shirt and jacket now sat right next to his socked feet.

And a John Sheppard stood a couple of feet from foot of the bed, with a blank expression on his face.

No, not really blank. There was a flash of _something_ in his eyes and tiny curl of his lips which Evan reckoned would be Sheppard's _let's shoot the natives and scram_ smile.

A chill came over him but it was not the cool of the night caused him to tremble slightly, as several excuses ran through Evan's head. Though each excuse was more ridiculous and crazier than the one before.

"Colonel..."

The awkward silence forced Evan to speak, even if he did not know what to say or how to explicate the situation. Sheppard might be the least strict commanding officer he had ever served under, but trouble like this he truly had no idea how to get out of.

Sheppard's expression shifted before he spoke, into something resembling amusement and mischief.

"Major, you've been spending too much time with Zelenka and his hooch. I can smell it all over you." He even took a dramatic sniff as if he could really smell something that was not there. "If it isn't because Rodney twisted his ankle and made us come back early, I probably won't know you're a careless drunk."

It was an out. Evan did not know why but Sheppard was obviously showing him the exit door clearly marked 'chalk it up to drunken stupidity' with less or no repercussion. Even though Evan's last intake of booze was during his leave back Earth-side eight months ago, he was more than willing to play along. Better be a drunk than a creep or worse, right?

Gift horse and mouth and all that. So no, he would take the out as graciously as he could manage.

"Sorry, Colonel. It will never happen again." With that, Evan practically jumped off the bed grabbing his jacket and shirt, unbelievably grateful for whatever reason he had kept his jeans on. In case Sheppard changed his mind, he haphazardly threw on the jacket, stuck his feet into his shoes while making his hasty escape towards the door.

"And Lorne..." The blood in Evan's veins almost froze before his hand passed over the door control when Sheppard drawled. Evan risked a glance at Sheppard's direction only to find him stripping off the sheets from the bed facing away.

"I like to unwrap my own present, no matter how good it looks half wrapped on my bed." Sheppard paused what he was doing and looked over at Evan, with his eyes seemingly glistening in the dark. "Not that you need to give me one for my birthday next week. I'm just saying."

Sheppard shrugged, as if they were conversing about trivial matters like the weather, and went back to putting fresh sheets on his bed. Evan hurriedly opened the door and fled into the quiet hallway.

Cursing under his breath, Evan leaned his forehead against the cold wall of the hallway with eyes shut tight. Did Sheppard just hinted at wanting him? Evan might have seen desire in Sheppard but he also might have merely imagined it under the dim light.

It might be a monumentally stupid decision Evan had ever made, but it was just one more on a night he had already made several. He raised his hand to ring the door chime.

The door opened revealing Sheppard still dressed in his BDU not half a minute later. He shot Evan a curious look but said nothing, crossing this arms in front of his chest.

"Colonel, I have an early birthday present for you."

It was not a good line. But Evan figured if he had indeed misjudged the situation, he would blame it on being _'drunk'_ anyway.

Sheppard remained still, scrutinizing Evan with an assessing glare, for a long minute. Then he slowly stepped away from the doorway.

And Sheppard grinned.


End file.
